


Ridin' the Quarantine Out

by goldenraeofsun



Series: You Shook Me All Quarantine Long [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean Winchester, COVID-19, Creature Castiel (Supernatural), Dom/sub Undertones, Incubus Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Roommates, They were QUARANTINED, Top Castiel (Supernatural), Virgin Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:14:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26647330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenraeofsun/pseuds/goldenraeofsun
Summary: “Like I said,” Dean says, chuckling, “no one’s ever died from blue balls. So you can't go out there and break quarantine to bang some rando.”Cas doesn’t find this funny in the slightest. “Nohumanhas died,” he clarifies.“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean narrows his eyes. “If you think some weird fact about guinea pigs is gonna sway me, you’ve got another thing coming, buddy. I’m not-”“I’m an incubus,” Cas interrupts. “I will literally die if I don’t feed.”
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: You Shook Me All Quarantine Long [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1844563
Comments: 67
Kudos: 749
Collections: Destiel





	Ridin' the Quarantine Out

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much [tiamatv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiamatv/)! She turned the first draft of this story into something actually readable ♥
> 
> Sorry for the long wait between series fics - here's some porn!

Dean walks into their living room in a pair of pajama pants and a worn tee shirt with a loose, threadbare collar.

“You’re not going out?” Cas asks, staring at him in a mixture of horror and surprise.

Dean raises his eyebrows and flips on the television. “Dude, there’s a pandemic going on. I’m not going out and bringing some rando back. I don’t care how good the soundproofing in this place is. That doesn't do shit against coronavirus.”

“But…”

Dean turns to him, his face incredulous. “Seriously? This, from _you?”_

Cas balks. “Excuse me?”

“You’re not one of those morons who think this is like a bad cold, right?” Dean asks, drawing back like Cas’s supposed stupidity is contagious, “Or made up?”

Cas shakes his head, frowning. “No, that’s not what I’ve been hearing.”

“Good,” Dean says with surprising relish. “Because I just got off the phone with my old man, and he was going on and on about how this is all a hoax, and so what if a couple grannies are going to kick it.”

Cas stares. “That’s… awful.”

“No shit,” Dean says as he turns to him and mutes Trebek. “Especially since he had that stroke, so who knows what’ll happen to _him_ if he catches it. Which he probably will, since he’s never listened to anyone in his life.” 

Cas nods mutely, watching out of the corner of his eye as Dean settles down next to him on the couch. It’s the first time this has happened on a Friday night since Dean moved in.

Cas’s never really looked _forward_ to when Dean brought people back to their apartment for sex. Each moan that comes through their (not-even-remotely soundproofed) bedroom walls fills Cas’s stomach and empties out part of his soul. He’d rather feed off Dean’s pleasure over anyone else on the planet, but that has less to do with the caliber of sustenance Dean provides and more to do with the fact that it’s _Dean._

At first, Cas thought he lucked out with finding Dean as a roommate. 

As Balthazar loves to say, Cas is the most inept incubus in the history of their species. The first time Cas tried to have sex with someone, she screamed and threw her shoe at him. He had tried to put her at ease by telling her it wasn’t her fault her father ran off, that he hated his job at the post office, but only did the opposite.

Cas tried to feed like a normal 21st century incubus. He downloaded every dating app in the digital stores. He went out to bars and clubs every weekend. He found a job at a big company with a wide selection of colleagues. He even tried speed-dating.

Nothing worked. Every potential partner backed out before they could remove a single item of clothing.

Somewhere in the middle of all this, while Castiel was slowly wasting away from lack of nourishment, his second-cousin Gabriel invited him to an orgy, and Castiel found he didn’t need to be directly involved to feed. He could watch, be in proximity of the “action,” and satisfy himself.

Eventually, being in the vicinity became the main way he fed.

When Meg from Sales mentioned Dean “Manwhore” Winchester from Marketing was looking for a new place to live a year ago, Cas jumped at the opportunity. According to Meg, Dean boasted of new conquests nearly every Monday morning. Cas nearly drooled right there on the break room carpet.

At first, their match was made in heaven. Cas told Dean their rooms were expertly soundproofed so he shouldn’t feel uncomfortable about bringing people back. He let Dean know he usually went to bed at ten-thirty sharp. To hammer the point home, Cas strongly implied he was a heavy sleeper.

Dean fulfilled his role like a dream. Once or twice during the week and every weekend, Cas could count on his version of a banquet. He’d stay up late, read a romance novel to get in the mood, and feed to his heart’s content on the sex going on barely two feet away.

But then Dean started to make Cas dinner a few times a week since, saying, “I like to cook, might as well make enough for two since I buy groceries in bulk, anyway.”

Dean started to stay in on weekdays, only going out on Friday and Saturday nights. Every other day of the week, Cas would find him parked on their couch at seven pm sharp, watching Jeopardy!, beer in hand, mouth running a mile a minute to keep up with Trebek and the contestants. 

On Monday, Dean makes them dinner. 

On Tuesday, he calls his brother and complain about Sandover and ask about Stanford. He usually ropes in Cas to update Sam on whatever is going on in _his_ life, since, “Poor Sammy doesn’t leave the library, and you gotta take one for the team, Cas. You don’t want my baby brother going crazy like a man in solitary.” 

On Thursday, Dean calls his father. More often than not, Dean hangs up angrier or more defeated than when he started talking. Not-quite-coincidentally, Cas insists Thursday be pizza night (meat lover’s, of course).

And so, Dean “Manwhore” Winchester became simultaneously the best and the worst roommate Cas ever had.

* * *

Dean jerks off more often than he did before the pandemic. Cas can feel it brushing against his extra senses, a tempting aroma but not much more. If Cas really tried, he could reach out, grab hold of the meal just out of reach.

After two weeks of no sex happening next door, Cas does it. 

Post masturbating, Dean passes out at nine pm. He sleeps through his morning alarm. He is unable to concentrate until noon, even after two cups of coffee. Luckily, he doesn’t have any early Zoom meetings.

As Cas watches Dean curse at his computer and forget where he saved documents, Cas promises never to feed on Dean when he doesn’t have a partner to balance the load.

Three days after the masturbation incident, hunger gnaws like a wild animal at Cas’s insides. He can’t concentrate on his work. He can’t relax. He can’t focus on anything that isn’t _Dean._ He smells Dean everywhere. Dean strolls out of his bedroom in his old pajama pants with a hole in the crotch, and Cas nearly falls to his knees on the spot.

By Friday, Cas has to do something.

For the first time since they both started working from home, Cas puts on his suit. He styles his hair to the best of his ability. He puts on shoes and is about to grab his coat when Dean wanders out of his bedroom, headphones on and singing along off-key, _“watching the full moon crossin’ the range, ridin' the storm out, ridin' the-”_

He stops short as he takes in Cas’s getup. “What’s going on?” he asks cautiously. He takes off his headphones, and Cas inwardly sighs. There’s no possibility of sneaking out the door now.

“I‘m going out,” Cas says stiffly.

Dean frowns. “Why?”

Cas glares. “Why do you need to know?”

“Because we’re living in _unprecedented times,”_ Dean says, mocking the words both of them have received in countless emails from vendors and managers over the past three weeks. “You went grocery shopping yesterday. I went to the pharmacy last week.”

“I’m not going shopping.”

“Then where are you going?” Dean asks, annoyed. “We can only leave for necessities. What the hell is essential at ten o’clock at night?”

Cas shakes his head. “Don’t wait up.”

“Hey,” Dean says, alarmed. He reaches out to grasp Cas’s upper arm. “Seriously, where the hell are you going?”

“I need to go out,” Cas says through gritted teeth. He can feel Dean’s concern, even through the layers of his clothing, radiating out from his hand. A desire for Cas to be safe that Dean would never voice out loud.

“Okay,” Dean says cautiously, like Cas might snap at any moment. “Cabin fever. I get it. But it’s dangerous out there.”

Cas jerks his arm out of Dean’s grip. “I can’t stay here, Dean.”

“Tough luck, man,” Dean says, as he crosses his arms over his chest. “You gotta.” He bites his lip and stares hard at Cas. “Or at least give me a good reason.”

Cas sighs. Dean always valued his sexual freedom - Cas’s old eating schedule attests to that. Dean has surely been feeling the strain too - probably not in the same way as Cas, but a small fraction, given his usual rates of sexual activity.

“I’m going to have sex,” Cas tells him, stone-faced.

Whatever Dean was expecting, it wasn’t that. His mouth drops open. “What?”

“It’s been a… considerable amount of time since I have had sex,” Cas says, inwardly wincing at his clinical speech and bald-faced lie. But he doesn’t possess an ounce of Dean’s charm or people-skills, or else he wouldn’t be in this mess. He would be like Gabriel, who is rooming with his on and off again girlfriend, or Balthazar, who has an agreement with twelve (very fit) ladies who live in his apartment complex.

Instead, he is simply Castiel, the most inept incubus in the continental United States.

He reaches out to gauge Dean’s wants - if he tries, he doesn’t need physical contact. He usually doesn’t do it, as Dean would probably see it as invasion of privacy.

Dean’s desire for Cas to stay safe burns brighter than ever, plus a small flicker of desire for _Cas_ that gets snuffed out even as Cas senses it. Cas ignores it, since Dean clearly doesn’t want him to know about it.

“Dude,” Dean says, shuddering like Cas just announced he ate the cockroaches in the basement, “You can’t die from blue balls. I’d get it if you were a horny teenager, but you’re, what, thirty-something? You can go a little while without getting any.” He smirks. “Hell, Sammy’s been a big ol’ virgin for twenty four years. You’ll live.”

Cas recoils. He might not.

He’s gone without eating before, when he was in his early twenties. Everyone kept saying he was in his prime, but how could he be, if he was starving and unable to convince a single human to sleep with him?

And now he finds himself in the exact same situation again. He’s older this time around, but a pandemic is raging outside. All the bars and clubs are shut down - not that he ever had much luck there. Hopelessness looms over Cas’s shoulders like an impending rainstorm threatening to release a deluge.

“Oh-kay,” Dean says slowly as he takes in Cas’s face. “I think something else is going on here. What gives? Is it stress from the pandemic? Sammy was telling me it’s totally understandable to be extra anxious and unable to sleep and shit with everything that’s going on.”

“I told you,” Cas mutters, taking a step back, “I need to have sex.”

“Hold on,” Dean says. “You can’t bring anyone back here. They might be infected.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Cas says sharply. “I would go to them.”

“But-!” Dean flails, “When you come back _here_ , you could be infected!”

“Then I will quarantine myself elsewhere,” Cas says, his heart heavy.

Dean gapes. “I thought you were the smart one. You can’t _leave.”_

“This isn’t about intelligence,” Cas says, jaw clenching, “it’s about survival.”

“Like I said,” Dean says, chuckling, “no one’s ever died from blue balls.” 

Cas doesn’t find this funny in the slightest. “No _human_ ,” he clarifies.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean asks, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “If you think some random fact about guinea pigs is gonna sway me, you’ve got another thing coming, buddy. I’m not-”

“I’m an incubus,” Cas interrupts.

That shuts Dean right up.

Cas said frankly, “I will die in a few days if I don’t feed.”

“Come on,” Dean says, his voice a fraction higher than normal. “I wasn’t about to believe the blue balls thing, so _this_ is your next try?”

Famished, hopeless, and fed up, Cas wraps his hand around Dean’s bare wrist. From Dean’s widening eyes, Cas can tell his own have lit up electric blue with power. 

“You first slept with another person when you were fifteen. You liked how she hooked her legs behind your back and the size of her breasts. Your best time was with a man who blew you in the dark. You liked how he turned on the lights when you had sex. The first thing you notice about someone attractive is their smile.” 

Cas lets go. 

Dean stands stock still, red-faced and gaping.

“I need to have sex,” Cas says, letting the full extent of his desperation bleed into his voice. “This _is_ an essential for me.”

“I - what?” Dean stutters.

Cas sighs. “I need to go.”

“No, wait, hold on,” Dean says as he steps in front of Cas, barring his path to the door. “What the hell did you do to me?”

Cas swallows. “I read your desires.”

“What the fuck?”

“I’m an incubus,” Cas repeats. “It’s one of the powers we possess.”

Dean runs a hand down his face. “You’re serious. You’re really a… incubus. Like, a sex demon?” He gives Cas a once-over, his green eyes raking up and down Cas’s body.

Cas frowns. “‘Demon’ is a bit derogatory,” he says. “And fictional. We’re more of a parasite.”

“Jesus,” Dean breathes. “So you’re saying, this whole time - you’ve been bringing people back here and, what, _feeding_ on them?”

Cas blinks, his face flushing. “Not exactly.”

“Please tell me you haven’t killed anyone,” Dean says in a small voice.

“No!” Cas says, horrified. “Feeding hardly ever kills a human. Unless they’re elderly and have some sort of heart complication. I’ve heard orgasms with an incubus can be… intense, so there are stories, but they’re more cautionary tales than actual fact.”

Dean’s mouth twitches. “Okay then,” he says. “Good.”

“It is?” Cas asks, bemused. “How?”

“Well, if I had a choice, I’d definitely prefer to room with not-an-axe-murderer over an axe murderer,” Dean says with a lopsided smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “You know, when I moved in, Charlie said you were a bit weird. And yeah, it took me while to get your whole _thing,_ but now it all makes sense.”

“It does?” Cas asks blankly because nothing about him has ever made sense to anyone else.

“Sure,” Dean says as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t get how you weren’t getting any with a face like that,” he gestures to the face in question, “and that brooding loner vibe you got going on, but if you can sneak someone in and out with supernatural whatever… I get it.”

“I can’t do that,” Cas says, more confused than ever. He looks away. “I’ve never brought anyone back to our apartment.”

Dean’s brow furrows. “But - you - how do you have sex then? You’re always here, man.”

“I don’t,” Cas says stiffly.

“You don’t what?”

“Have sex.”

“Okay,” Dean says slowly, “Now I’m confused. Aren’t you an incubus? Isn’t sex what you’re all about?”

Cas would pitch himself out their sixth story window if he didn’t think Dean would yank him back with a lecture on the dangers of venturing outside again. Through clenched teeth, he explains, “I don’t need to have sex to feed.”

“Then what the hell has this all been for?” Dean demands, splaying his hands wide to gesture to their (now more relaxed) stalemate by the front door. “For fuck’s sake, I thought you were gonna _die_ if you didn’t get some.”

“I am,” Cas says impatiently, “Because I have no other option. I don’t need to have sex to feed. But I have to be _around_ sex to feed. Before the pandemic, _one_ of us was having enough sex to sustain me.”

“Oh,” Dean exhales. He takes a wide step back, his face guarded, anger lurking behind his eyes. “So every time I-”

Cas’s heart sinks. Shamefaced, he whispers, “There was no other way.”

“Except to have sex yourself,” Dean says scornfully. “Something the rest of your whole species apparently does on the regular.”

“I tried,” Cas mutters. “But I couldn’t.”

“What, couldn’t get it up?” Dean sneers.

Cas cringes back. But he deserves it for using Dean for so long. And, at least, Dean deserves an explanation. “I couldn’t find anyone who would sleep with me.”

Dean laughs derisively - before he catches sight of Cas’s face. He says incredulously, “You’re serious?”

Hurt, Cas presses his lips together as he tries to think of his next words carefully. “I tried. For years. I went to bars, clubs, parties. I always messed it up somehow.”

“How?”

“If I knew, I wouldn't be in this situation,” Cas says shortly. He sighs and meets Dean’s eyes. “I mean, when we first met, did _you_ want to have sex with me?”

“I - well, no, but-”

Cas’s jaw clenches. “Exactly.”

“Hey, wait,” Dean protests, “that’s not a fair question. You said the first thing I notice about a person is their smile. Dude, it took you _weeks_ to smile at me.”

“It did?” Cas asks, surprised. That can’t possibly be right.

“Yeah,” Dean says as he fiddles with a hole in his pajama pants. “You’d just come home late from work, so I was already in the middle of making dinner. But you texted about getting groceries when you left the office, so I knew what time you’d be back. I was making burgers since, well, you’d had a long day.” He looks up, almost bashful. It’s an expression Cas has never seen on Dean’s face before. “Anyway, I remember you stepping in the door, and, I dunno. You smiled.”

Cas doesn’t remember that night. It blends in with too many other weekday nights spent having dinner with Dean, basking in Dean’s company, knowing Dean chose to spend his time with Cas and not a stranger with no last name.

“I don’t remember,” Cas admits.

Dean’s shoulders slump. His gaze falls to the floor. “It’s fine.”

“But you could show me,” Cas says as he tentatively offers his hand. “If you remember, I’ll see it.”

“Really?” 

Cas nods. “Physical touch is used to share desires, memories, feelings… usually during sex, but it works fine at other times.”

“Huh,” Dean says as he lightly touches the center of Cas’s palm with two fingers.

* * *

Cas comes back to himself a split second later, Dean’s memory of his own face bright in his mind’s eye. When Dean touched him, he expected a sharp flare of Dean’s past sexual desire or a burning want smoldering in the background. And Cas did sense the familiar tingles of sex and muted arousal - but they were muted compared to what Dean really wanted, watching Castiel walk in through their door - for Castiel to come home to him, over and over again. Forever.

“Dean,” Cas breathes, his mouth dry.

Dean snatches his hand back. “Anyway,” he says, looking anywhere but at Cas, “that was the first time.”

“Do you still want... that?” Cas asks, his gaze trained on Dean’s guarded face. “I-” he breaks off, “I would understand if you’ve changed your mind.” He gestures to himself. “I’m - it’s a lot to take in.”

Dean huffs a laugh. “I learned you can read my mind and know everything I want before I do? You bet your ass it’s a lot.” He exhales a slightly bewildered breath. “I haven’t forgotten you said incubuses” - “incubi” - “give more intense orgasms either.”

Cas shakes his head. “I don’t know if it will be like that with me,” he says as a terrifying, wonderful possibility starts stretching out before him, one where he might have Dean in every way.

After a beat, Dean asks, “Are you seriously a virgin incubus?”

Cas’s shoulder slump. “I believe I’m setting a record for my species.”

Dean musters a weak laugh, but it sounds off, like a flat note in a chord. “Are we really doing this? Having sex? Us?”

Cas inhales a sharp breath. “I’d like to.”

“Awesome,” Dean smiles, but it doesn’t look right either, “You’re lucky you got stuck with me. Not to brag, but I’ve never left a partner hanging.”

Cas tilts his head as he tries to figure out the warning signs subtly pinging from Dean’s demeanor. Cas would be the first to say his people skills are rusty, but he likes to think he knows Dean pretty well. They’ve been living together for over a year, and Dean has always been the most fascinating part of Cas’s endless hours in the apartment. 

Before he can open his mouth to ask, Dean circles around to ease Cas’s coat off his shoulders. He hangs it back up on the hook by the wall.

“Thank you,” Cas says slowly.

“’Course.” 

Dean crowds in so close Cas can almost feel Dean’s breath ghosting over his face. All Cas can see is green. 

Dean asks in a low voice, “Do you want to move this to the bedroom?”

Cas swallows. Nods.

“Good.” Dean drags a finger down the inside of Cas’s forearm, and Cas’s shirtsleeve might as well have been made of plastic wrap. The heat and intent behind Dean’s touch marks him down to the bone. “Yours or mine?”

Cas’s blinks. People have asked him this before, and things usually fell apart soon after, if they got that far at all. Cas would do or say something, and they’d leave him hungry and aching.

When Cas takes too long to respond, Dean says, smiling crookedly, “Babe, I’m not a mind reader. Where do you want me?”

“Yours,” Cas rasps. He’s been fantasizing about this for so long, ever since the first time he accidentally heard Dean though the walls separating their rooms.

“Good choice,” Dean murmurs as he reaches for Cas, pulling him in. His eyes rove over Cas, like he’s trying to memorize every plane of his face. Unbearably slowly, he brings their mouths together.

“That’s it,” Dean murmurs against his mouth as Cas parts his lips to release a ragged breath. “I’ve got you.”

 _“Dean,”_ Cas sighs.

“Come on,” Dean says as he guides him to his bedroom. Inside, Dean pauses. “How does this work? I’ve never slept with an incubus before.” He frowns. “That I know of.”

“You haven’t,” Cas assures him as he takes off his suit jacket. “They would have seriously objected to my presence.”

“Really?”

Cas fiddles with the buttons of his shirt. “We get very territorial over meals.”

Dean bats Cas’s hands away and starts on the buttons himself. “Even for one-night stands?”

Cas frowns as he lets his arms hang limply by his sides, feeling a little useless. He can’t help Dean in a similar manner since he’s wearing a tee shirt and getting it off him would mean interrupting him unbuttoning Cas’s shirt. “We don’t like to share.”

“Huh,” Dean says, lips pursed as he pushes Cas’s shirt off his shoulders. “You don’t seem like the jealous type.”

“I -” Cas breaks off as Dean bends down to kiss at his collar bone. He has to concentrate to say, a tad breathlessly, “It’s complicated.”

Dean worries the skin at the juncture of Cas’s neck and his shoulder. “How so?” he murmurs, his breath hot and electric. His wants and desires flit like a slideshow playing double time. Cas barely has time to read them before Dean wants something new.

Cas wraps his hands around Dean’s waist, fingers digging into the juts just above his pelvis. “You having sex fed me, and I liked not being hungry, so I couldn’t resent that part of you.”

Dean sucks at the hinge of Cas’s jaw. “Doesn't seem complicated to me.”

Cas says, his voice strangled, “It’s like when a waiter brings you the wrong order, but you’re starving, so you eat it anyway.”

Dean buries his hands in Cas’s hair, tilting his head to the right angle. “So I’m the wrong order for you?” He scrapes his fingernails against Cas’s scalp.

Cas shivers, even though he’s hot all over. “There is nothing about you, Dean Winchester.”

“Now I know that’s a lie,” Dean chuckles as he trails one finger down Cas’s now bare chest and unzips Cas’s pants.

Thrumming with anticipation, Cas crushes their mouths together.

Dean moans as Cas presses their bodies flush against each other, his own erection pressing enticingly against Cas’s abdomen. Cas crowds him closer to the bed, and Dean nearly falls over as the backs of his knees hit his bed frame.

“Can I?” Cas asks as he slips one finger into the waistband of Dean’s pajama pants.

“Hell yes,” Dean breathes with a laugh.

Cas sinks to his knees, and Dean isn’t laughing anymore. “Hey,” Dean says as he cups Cas’s face with his hand, “You don’t have to do that. We can just… you know, get to the good stuff.”

“I want to,” Cas says plainly.

“Okay,” Dean says, confusion still lurking behind his eyes. “I don’t have special mind-reading powers, remember.”

“You don’t need them,” Cas says as he tugs down Dean’s boxers and pants in one go. He raises his eyes to Dean’s, huge and dark with a lust that Cas can feel in his very bones. “That _is_ what you want, yes?”

“I - I don’t - what?”

“You want to feel me,” Cas says as he focuses on Dean’s hard cock, twitching under the weight of Cas’s gaze. “You want my mouth on you, to watch my lips stretch around your cock.”

“I mean, yeah,” Dean stutters, “kind of useless to deny it, I guess.”

Cas wraps his hand around Dean’s length, and Dean makes a sort of strangled noise in the back of his throat. “I want to make you feel good, Dean.”

“You already do that.”

Cas licks his lips. “Then I want to make you feel better than good. I want to ruin your for sex with anyone else.”

“That might be a high bar,” Dean says hesitantly.

“So I’ll cheat,” Cas says with a grin, and he swallows Dean down.

 _“Fuck,”_ Dean swears. His fingers tangle in Cas’s hair. 

Cas grips the back of Dean’s thighs and lets his power race up Dean’s veins, searching, scoping, digging up every hidden desire Dean has ever had. He adds pressure with his lips, sucking Dean down like a starving man - which he kind of is. He swirls his tongue around the head as he pulls off before diving in for more, and Dean rewards him with another bitten-off curse.

Cas slows as the backs of Dean’s knees twitch with the effort not to come, every muscle tense as a tightrope. 

“Are you sure you’re a virgin? Blow jobs still count,” Dean gasps as Cas pulls off him and pumps him, almost lazily, with his hand.

“I think so. I once felt a man up over his pants,” Cas says conversationally. “And then I made the mistake of asking him to slap me. Which is what he wanted, but I didn’t know he didn’t want me to know about it. So we didn’t go much further.”

Dean blinks. “Yeah, okay, my brain’s too fried to get any of that.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Cas demurs, and thank god Dean’s calmed down enough for Cas to resume blowing him. When Dean wants more pressure, Cas takes as much of him as he can, and swallows so the muscles of his throat contract around the head of his cock. He glances up to meet Dean’s eyes above him, because Dean wants him to.

“Christ, you look good like that,” Dean says in an undertone.

Cas rewards him with a generous lick up his shaft. He inhales a deep breath as he feeds, leeching the charged energy off Dean’s heated skin. His hands massage the backs of Dean’s thighs, just grazing the curve of his ass. “Come for me soon, Dean,” he orders.

“Yeah, okay,” Dean pants as Cas wraps his lips around him again. It doesn't take more than a few more sucks before Dean spills hot and bitter on Cas’s tongue.

“Of course you don’t spit,” Dean says dazedly as he slumps back onto the bed.

Cas wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He licks his lips and gets to his feet, standing over Dean.

“Look at you,” Dean drawls, his eyes hooded as they rake up the bulge in Cas’s unzipped pants, his bare chest, and the undoubtedly hungry expression on his face. Cas has had a taste now, and there’s no way in hell he will let Dean leave this room until he’s had his fill.

“How are you feeling?” Cas asks. He nudges Dean’s knees a little further apart so he can slot his own leg between them. He lays one calibrating palm on Dean’s chest: Dean’s heart is racing and his breathing is already coming in raggedly. But his desire burns against Cas’s skin. “Do you need to rest?”

“I mean,” Dean makes room as Cas practically climbs on top of him, “I’m not a teenager anymore. It’ll be a hot second before I can get it up again.”

Cas smiles shyly. “That shouldn’t be a problem,” he says as he reaches between them and drags one of his fingers up the length of Dean’s cock, adding pressure and a touch of his power as he goes. Dean’s dick twitches in interest, filling slowly but surely.

“No way,” Dean says in wonder as he blinks up at Cas. “Another perk of being with you?”

Cas shrugs. “No refractory time.”

Dean reaches up to cradle Cas’s face with his hands. “You’re so awesome, you know that?”

Cas ducks his head. He tries to get a read on Dean for what to do next, but all he gets are hazy, half-formed desires Cas can’t translate to clear actions. There are too many of them to focus on one. What if he picks the wrong one?

Cas’s heart pumps double-time in his chest as he probes harder with his powers. There has to be something else Dean really wants. But all Cas gets are memories of thrusting bodies, toes curling in the mattress, slender hands holding down Dean’s wrists.

Panic creeps in, its tendrils hooking him and dragging him down.

He needs to choose something soon. Sex is all about timing, Balthazar always said. Wait too long, and the right moment will slip through your fingers like so much lubrication.

“Hey,” Dean says as Cas doesn’t move, “How are you doing? This was your first time at something like this, right? You doin’ okay?”

Cas shakes his head. “I don’t know what you want.”

Dean’s brow furrows. “But I thought that was your whole thing.”

Cas rolls off him to lay flat on his back. “It’s supposed to be,” he says in a muted voice to the ceiling.

Dean doesn’t move for a long moment. “Is your mojo shorting out now you’ve gotten to the good stuff?” He sighs, and a part of Cas shrivels inside. “Figures, I guess.”

“I don’t think so,” Cas sighs as he flips Dean’s hand over and presses a finger against the inner skin of Dean’s wrist. Weirdly, it calms some of the storm in his head. Dean’s desire for sex simmers below the surface, but Cas can almost ignore it as Dean’s concern for _Cas_ washes over him. 

“I don’t have the experience to know what it all means,” Cas admits. He turns to look at Dean, catching his profile illuminated by the bedside lamp. “When we were starting out, you had very clear wants. But as we got further along… the possibilities were a little overwhelming.”

Dean snorts. “Well, that’s an easy fix.”

“It is?”

“Yeah, dude, just _ask_. Like normal people do during sex. You don’t have to use your freaky mind-reading powers on me.”

“But…” Cas drifts off. “Isn’t that the whole appeal of sleeping with someone like me?”

Dean frowns. “Not the only reason.”

“Excuse me?”

Dean sighs. “I wanted to sleep with you before I found out about any of this shit.” He waves his hand, like he can brush off Cas’s incubus nature, “But I didn’t think you were into that.”

Cas says plainly, “I want to have sex.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “I know that _now_. But you never made a move or, hell, kissed anyone in front of me. I thought it wasn’t your thing. Charlie said you might be asexual.”

“I am not.”

“Again,” Dean says patiently, a smile lurking in the corners of his mouth, “I’m all caught up now. But a virgin incubus who feeds on second-hand sex? Was not my first guess. And I’m gonna bet there’s gotta be more asexuals out there than people like you.”

Cas doesn’t deny it. He is one of a kind, in the worst sense of the word.

“Look,” Dean says, turning over on his side so he can face Cas fully. “What do you want to do now?”

“What do _I_ want?”

“Uh huh,” Dean says, the slightest tease in his voice. “It does take two to tango. I’m not going to be the sucker in the group project doing all the work. So, tell me, what do you want, Cas?”

“You,” Cas blurts.

“Need more specifics than that,” Dean says, amused, “since you’ve already got me.”

Cas’s mind goes horrifying blank. “I don’t…”

Dean reaches over and squeezes his hand. “We can do multiple choice, alright?”

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” Dean says as his thumb swipes over Cas’s wrist in a soothing motion, “do you want to top? Do you want me to top? Do you want to call it quits tonight and try again tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Cas repeats, horrified at the very idea of stopping now.

“I’m not going anywhere. _You’re_ not going anywhere,” Dean says, his eyes flashing like he’s daring Cas to contradict him. “We’re in fucking quarantine with nothing else to do but fuck our brains out.” He gives Cas’s hand another squeeze. “I’m just saying, if you’ve had enough for tonight, that’s fine with me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Dean says. “So what’ll it be, sunshine?”

Cas considers his options. “I’d like to have sex now.”

Dean laughs. “Alright, now we’re getting somewhere.” He sits up. “Positions?”

“You like to bottom,” Cas says tentatively as Dean nods encouragingly, “I saw how much you’ve enjoyed it in the past.”

Dean makes a face. “Don’t say it like that. It’s not like you were there, peeking from behind the curtains like a weirdo.”

“No, I just saw your past sexual experiences using my magic incubus powers,” Cas deadpans.

Dean lets out a startled bark of laughter. “Okay, maybe there isn’t a good way to say it.”

* * *

They’re face-to-face with the bedside lamp turned up to the highest setting. The room smells like Dean and sweat. Cas has two fingers buried deep in Dean’s ass and one hand splayed possessively on Dean’s hip, keeping him anchored to the bed.

Dean is practically screaming his desires to Cas through their bond. A flurry of - _right there - harder - again - again - again - fuck!_

“Come for me, Dean,” Cas says as he crooks his fingers up.

“What?” Dean pants, eyes wide.

Cas leans forward, stressing, “You’re almost there. You want it.”

“Yeah,” Dean groans, “But will you-”

“Don’t worry,” Cas cuts him off as he presses down mercilessly on Dean’s prostate. Dean squirms restlessly. “I’m going to make you come at least one more time. Preferably when you’re sitting on my cock, and I can feel you clenching around me.”

“Fuck,” Dean groans as he spills, untouched, all over himself. The bond burns bright, a flare that shoots straight to Cas’s stomach. Dean pants, “Never knew a virgin who talked like you do.” His cock gives a second weaker twitch and dribbles out more come.

“Well,” Cas starts as he swipes a finger through the release on Dean’s abdomen and licks it curiously. “I’m not a virgin anymore.”

“True,” Dean murmurs as he flops back on the bed.

Cas lets him rest for a moment. He can’t forget: most men Dean’s age are not normally equipped to have two explosive orgasms within thirty minutes. Cas leans over and grabs a few tissues on Dean’s nightstand to clean him up before round three. “And I’ve watched a considerable amount of pornography, since I was not having sex.”

“Hot,” Dean says with a snort. He reaches over to grasp Cas’s wrist. “You don’t have to do that.”

“You don’t like feeling sticky,” Cas protests. That was Dean’s first coherent thought once he orgasmed. It almost made Cas laugh.

“No, I mean,” Dean says, glancing down between them. “I haven’t helped you out. And you’ve made me come twice.”

Cas blinks at him, surprised. “You _have_ helped me.”

“Dude,” Dean glowers, “I can see your boner from here. I’ve done jack shit. Normally I wouldn’t let shit like that fly, but...” He sighs. “I think I just shot my brain out through my dick.”

Cas laughs. “Dean, I’ve been feeding off you this entire time. I’ve already eaten better tonight than I have in years.”

Dean’s mouth works for a few moments. “So you don’t… need to come?” His gaze flicks to the damp tissue covered in his release still in Cas’s hand. “You don’t, like, drink it do you?”

Cas tries to hold back a laugh. “No. I don’t have to eat ejaculate to survive.”

Dean grimaces. “Good. Jizz is nasty.”

Cas smiles as he resumes wiping off Dean’s abdomen. “Anyway,” he continues, “Do not feel like this is a competition. We’re not measuring with the same scales.”

“Alright,” Dean says as he props himself up on his elbows. “But you’re gonna come too, right?”

“I hope so,” Cas says as he tosses the tissue in the vague direction of the wastebasket in the corner of Dean’s bedroom. 

“Wanna get started?” Dean asks, holding open his arms and waggling his eyebrows like a cartoon of Casanova.

Cas ducks his head to hide his smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you’re down to bang me anyway,” Dean says with a grin. “The universe works in mysterious ways.”

Cas leans down for a kiss. “Are you ready?” he asks as they break apart.

Dean gives his whole body a little shake. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” He spreads his legs and offers his hand. “Might be faster than telling you what to do,” he says sheepishly as Cas stares at him. 

He takes Dean’s hand. 

Like sinking into a hot spring, Dean’s desire washes over him through their bond. Cas lets out a small sigh as he kneels in front of Dean, his own erection bobbing obscenely over the vee of Dean’s legs. He gently guides himself into place, pausing just outside Dean’s entrance.

Dean stares up at him, his gaze almost challenging. “Not getting any younger here.”

Cas inhales a deep breath and pushes forward. Dean lets him in, smooth as silk and hot enough to burn Cas from the inside out. Cas exhales, his breath stuttering in his chest as he seats himself fully inside Dean.

“Fuck,” Dean curses, “You’re huge.”

Cas stares at him. He hadn’t been trying to hide the size of his penis; they’ve both been naked for the better part of an hour. “I - sorry?” he tries, even though he knows from touching Dean’s skin that he likes it.

“Don’t be,” Dean grunts. “It’s a lot to take in, heh.”

Cas rolls his eyes and pulls out. He slams back home with a groan.

Dean jerks as Cas thrusts inside him again, hands fisting the sheets, eyes squeezed shut. He clenches deliciously tight around Cas.

Cas runs a light hand down Dean’s chest, tweaking a nipple - Dean inhales a sharp breath - and lingering on the sparse trail of hair leading down to his groin. 

Dean grins weakly up at him. “I’m not gonna break, you know. You can touch me.”

“I know,” Cas says. “It’s - I’ve never had anyone like this before.”

Dean’s face softens. “I’m all yours.”

“I know,” Cas repeats. He leans forward so their faces are only a few inches apart. “Now, Dean, I want to hear you.” At his words, a pang for more control flickers up the bond.

“Wha - _fuck!”_

“Just like that,” Cas grunts as he snaps his hips against Dean again, skin slapping obnoxiously loudly. Before Dean can recover, he slams home again. 

Dean moans, his back arching as Cas moves both of Dean’s arms above his head. Dean cocks his head, a question clear on his face. 

“Don’t break my hold on you,” Cas warns as he grabs both Dean’s wrists in one hand. Cas leans forward, applying a considerable amount of his bodyweight to keep Dean in place. 

Dean’s eyes widen. He murmurs, “You got it, angel.”

“Good,” Cas says in a rough voice. He works Dean over with his eyes, smiling as Dean’s chest jumps with uneven breaths of anticipation.

Cas rolls his hips, fucking into Dean with steady, powerful thrusts.

Dean moans, twisting in Cas’s hold but not breaking it. He writhes as Cas leans forward, putting more pressure on his captive wrists. His arms strain, the cords of muscle tensing over and over. He wants to come; he doesn’t want to come; his mind ping-pongs back and forth.

“You’re being so good for me,” Cas says, his words low and wrecked. “So fucking good.”

“Jesus Christ, the mouth on you,” Dean gasps as he grinds down on Cas’s cock. “Never would have guessed.”

“It’s not something I advertise,” Cas says with a particularly strong buck of his hips. Dean squeezes his eyes shut, but a whimper escapes. “That’s it,” Cas says, encouraging. “I always love hearing you.”

Dean’s eyes pop open. “What? You’ve heard me before?”

Cas stops short.

Dean blinks. “Cas?”

“I - the walls don’t block out that much sound,” Cas admits. Or any sound at all.

Dean’s mouth falls open. “You’ve been listening in the _whole damn time?”_

Cas gives a small nod.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean mutters. He looks up at Cas, his eyes narrowed. “Seriously?”

“At first, I used to watch porn,” Cas says. He lets go of Dean’s wrists and sits back on his heels. “But my headphones didn’t - I - I liked hearing you.”

Dean surveys him, considering. “Did you jerk off?”

“Sometimes,” Cas says, completely mortified. All the time, after his headphones broke the third week after Dean moved in.

“Did you pretend you were the one making me make those noises?” Dean presses.

Cas says in a tiny voice, “Yes.”

“Fuck,” Dean says, and Cas doen’t register Dean’s face as _satisfied_ until Dean snaps his arms back into position, ready for Cas to pin him down again. “If you’d told me, we could’ve been doing this so much sooner.”

“I - really?”

“I mean,” Dean says, rolling his eyes, “we gotta talk boundaries and the little peep show you got going on next door, but I’m about to come for the third time in one night, and I _finally_ got you in my bed, so we can save all that stuff for later.”

“Are you sure?” Cas asks, unable to stop himself. Dean might be just about to orgasm, but the raw panic that bolted up Cas's spine put his own release somewhat on hold.

“Dead sure,” Dean assures him. He gives a minute shimmy of his hips. “Ready when you are, Glenn Close.”

Cas frowns. “Dean, I-”

“Hey,” Dean drops his joking attitude, “It's alright. I’m not mad.” He sits up and slowly presses their mouths back together. Dean curls one hand around Cas’s neck, his thumb soothing the skin behind his ear. Cas lets out a shuddering sigh, drinking in Dean’s wordless reassurances. 

When Dean lets go, Cas feels less like he’s going to shake apart. “You okay?” Dean asks, his eyes scanning Cas’s face.

“I’m good,” Cas says, meeting Dean’s gaze squarely. “We can resume.”

Dean snorts. “God, I love the way you talk. Go ahead, Spock. Fuck me into the next century.”

“I don’t get that reference.”

“Of course you don’t,” Dean says, his face fond. He bites his lip as he reaches up for Cas’s shoulder. With a gentle pressure, he guides Cas back down so they’re face to face, their bodies barely inches apart. “You good to do it like this?”

“Yes, Dean.” Cas adjusts his hips, smiling to himself as Dean inhales a sharp breath when he finds the right angle. _There,_ their bond tells him.

He picks up speed until he’s fucking into Dean with a single-minded determination. The air fills with Dean’s bitten-off moans, and Cas’s grunts of approval.

In Cas, the heat builds low, a roiling pressure threatening to break.

Cas lets his power explode from him as he orgasms.

The bedside lamp blows out.

Cas freezes, and Dean laughs in the darkness.

* * * 

“Ew,” Cas says as the stickiness between them registers. He blinks at the shadows of Dean’s face as his eyes try to adjust. “Did you come again?”

“Yup,” Dean sighs. “Third time of the night, baby.”

“Is that good?”

“I haven’t done that since I was fourteen.”

Through their bond, Cas gets a _very_ unpleasant memory of teenage Dean jerking himself off as many times in one day as he could just to see what would happen. The third orgasm was forced. The fourth was almost painful. He gave up on the fifth halfway through.

Cas chuckles. “Hopefully this was more enjoyable than that.”

“Congrats,” Dean says as he slaps Cas on the shoulder. “You’ve ruined me for sex with anyone else. And on your first try, too. You should be proud of yourself.”

“I am,” Cas says, hesitant. His good mood sours as he receives flickers of Dean’s idle speculations of future partners.

Dean squirms underneath him. “Hey,” he says, getting Cas’s attention, “Can this bond thing go both ways?”

Cas bites his lip. “It can.”

Dean studies him closely. “’Cause I think I got something from you.”

“You did?” Cas asks, surprised.

“Yeah,” Dean says, his tone guarded. “Were you jealous? Just now?”

“I - perhaps.” Cas sits up and reaches for the box of tissues. Dean doesn’t like being sticky, after all.

Dean bites his lip, not speaking as Cas wipes him down and grabs another tissue to clean up his own stomach, splattered with Dean’s release. Eventually, Dean says, “You don’t like me being with other people.”

Cas bites down the first irritated words on his tongue. He says instead, “No.”

“But…” Dean sucks in a slow breath. “Isn’t that a bit unfair?”

Cas frowns. “How so?”

“How come you’re allowed to sleep around, and I’m not?” Dean asks with a slight edge to his voice.

Cas balks. “I’m not going to sleep around.” His stomach turns over at the very thought. His hand digs into Dean’s shoulder, pressing all his confusion into the bond.

Dean’s brow furrows. “I’m talking about after you’ve gotten me outta your system.”

“I don’t think you’ll ever be ‘out of my system,’” Cas says honestly as he sits back.

“Sure,” Dean bends down to grab the edge of the sheet from where it’s fallen off the bed, “I get it, you never forget your first time. But I mean, after.”

“After _what?”_ Cas repeats, his frustration building. “I don’t understand.”

Dean straightens, his face hard. He gestures vaguely around the room, “After quarantine is over, and you have other options.” He smiles wryly, but it doesn’t soften his expression at all, “Other meals to choose from. Ones that aren’t the _wrong order.”_

Cas’s blood turns to ice in his veins. “You think all I want is sex,” he says faintly.

“You’re an incubus,” Dean says frankly, “Wasn’t hard to put two-and-two together and get four.”

Cas tries not to be offended. Dean doesn’t get it. Before tonight, he didn’t know incubi existed. “We partner for life.”

“What?”

Cas sighs. “Not all of us, obviously,” he says because he can read the next question all over Dean’s face. “But it’s a path a good number of us choose. That’s why I told you the bond goes both ways. It normally doesn’t. But if we think we’ve found a… compatible long term partner, it opens.” He drops his gaze to his lap. “When I saw how you wanted our relationship to be, I realized we wanted the same things.” He adds ruefully, “I didn’t realize opening the bond could be a subconscious decision.”

“Oh,” Dean says, his face unreadable. 

Cas probes for Dean’s desires, but gets nothing.

Dread curls, bitter and heavy in Cas’s gut. He had been so certain after that first memory of Dean’s. But, if tonight has taught him anything, it’s that his powers don’t always work the way he wants them to. And if Dean really doesn’t want -

“What if you made a mistake?” Dean asks, his voice low.

Cas flinches. He scrambles for any answer that isn’t, _no, no, no._ Dean can’t mean - 

Mouth almost painfully dry, Cas rasps, “We can move on from our chosen partners. It’s not easy, but we can.”

Dean nods. “How?”

Cas shoots him a desperate look. “You really want to know?”

Dean shrugs. “It’s better to be prepared. I mean, you chose _me._ The guy who’s never been in a relationship in his life.” He chuckles darkly. “It’s kind of inevitable I’ll fuck it up.”

Cas reaches out to touch Dean again, his fingers digging, probably painfully, into his shoulder. He searches for any sign Dean doesn’t want him, doesn’t want what he’s offering. 

He doesn’t find any.

Shoulders slumping in relief, Cas says, “I haven’t been in a relationship, either.” He shuffles closer, so they’re side-by-side instead of facing each other. “But I want to try with you.”

Dean’s face clouds over. “That’s a mistake.”

Cas turns to him. “How do you know?”

“I just do,” Dean says testily.

Cas shakes his head. “I think you’re wrong.”

“Shows what you know,” Dean scoffs, “I’m never wrong.”

Cas smiles. “You thought I was asexual.”

“Apart from that.”

“You thought I didn’t want to have sex with you.”

“We’re not talking about that either.”

Cas chuckles lightly and holds out his hand. “Do you want to see what I want? Why I want you in return?”

Dean exhales a slow breath, his face slightly more hopeful, but there’s still tension behind his eyes. “You’re not going to let this go until I do, are you?”

“Probably not.”

“Stubborn bastard.”

Cas casts him an appraising look. “I could say the same of you.”

“Alright, alright,” Dean says as he laces their fingers together. “So how does this work? I’ll see your memories and shit?”

“My memories and desires,” Cas says. “It might be confusing at first, but I’ll try to go as slow as I can to not overwhelm you.”

Dean smirks. “Be gentle. It’s my first time, you know.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this addition to this one-shot series, feel free to request more at my [tumblr](https://goldenraeofsun.tumblr.com/ask)!


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